


Nightmares, New and Old

by hunterangelblog



Category: Almost Human
Genre: F/M, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 23:13:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2750675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunterangelblog/pseuds/hunterangelblog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John has a bad night and an even worse morning. He also hates new technology. All. Of. It.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares, New and Old

The distinct ratatatat of machine gun fire sounded around John, shaking his bones and making his teeth clack together.

No, not this again. He looked over to see Pelham bleeding out and he knew. He was dreaming. Stuck in a loop of the past. He knew his partner was dead but what had happened years ago wouldn't let him have any peace. His failure. His trust in the wrong person that had cost him his leg. But hell, he had gotten off easy.

But that was the thing about nightmares, it didn't matter that this had already happened. That nothing he did now would change a god damned thing. But he had to try. He had to get his partner out of this hell on earth. Get out. Now.

He pulls his closest friend to his chest and tries to run for the both of them. He doesn't get far before he feels a vital part of himself disconnect from the whole. He doesn't feel the pain yet. No, the pain comes later. He looks back in time to see his entire world shatter around him.

Anna stands at the head of inSyndicate with a smoking grenade launcher in her hands and hate seething from her eyes. Hell they practically glow with it, shining a bright blue. No, that's not right. Her eyes were the color of warm hot chocolate. But her cinnamon skin glowed with blue lines, swirling and seething beneath the surface. John blinked against the grit in his eyes and Dorian stood before him, dressed in black and holding the high powered grenade launcher that would end him. The last thing John saw was that obnoxious smirk.

Gasping and flailing in sweat soaked sheets, it took John a few seconds to realized that he was in his apartment and safely in his bed. Shit, that smirking synthetic was invading his dreams now. Fucking blue eyes. Fucking Dorian. Well just...fuck.

The digital clock read 3:14am. He should really try and get some more sleep. He'd had nightmares before. Hell, most of the time that's all he had but this time had unnerved him more than he would admit to anyone, living or artificial. He needed to clear his head.

As the bathroom filled with steam, he checked the dock of his synthetic leg. Most of the time he hated depending on a piece of machinery but the shower made practicality win over pride. A wet floor and one leg was not a winning combination. God forbid he slipped and busted his ass and then had to call for help. He could probably call Dorian due to the fact that he could just have Rudy erase that part of his memory. The part where Dorian saw him naked and hapless. He could do that right? Probably not. So, to avoid all such scenarios, he made it a habit to shower with both legs.

The hot water had started to loosen his stressed muscles. His neck and back relaxing under the barrage heat and wet. The effects of the nightmare washing down the drain. Everything was resetting. Well, all except for Mr. Happy. Instead of relaxing like the rest of his body, it had decided that now was the time to perk up and beg for attention, taking John's morning wood from a slight inconvenience to a painful annoyance. John looked down at the offending member and cursed.

He took himself firmly in hand, squeezing the head on the upstroke, and wrung a groan from his throat. No matter how much he tried to blank his mind, the last person he had been with invaded his thoughts. Caramel skin that smelled of lavender body wash and made soft by the steam. She, he couldn't even think her name in private, would drop to her knees in front of him. The best part wasn't her teasing mouth on him. It was her eyes. She always kept eye contact with him, reveling in his reactions. His arched back, his peaked buds, his dilated pupils. Her mouth on him was intimate and possessive. She owned him in these moments and he gave himself to her, a willing lamb to the slaughter. She took him in her wet heat, her throat opening for his insistent thrusts, but he was possessed by her eyes. Those bright blue eyes.

So close. He was so close, staring into those blue eyes. He had flying over his slick member, pushing him towards that all consuming finish. Ah, so close.

"John" Dorian's voice. Saying his name. It was like his body was waiting for that voice to give him permission. He exploded. Eyes squeezing shut trying to block out the blue light that flooded his waking and dreaming moments. Dorian saying his name over and over.

As he regained his composure, he realized that Dorian really was saying his name. What the...?

He looked down at his hand, and the mess he had made on it, and saw Dorian's blue eyes staring back at him from his brand new phone implant on his right hand. Goddammit. He must have accidentally answered Dorian's call during his...recent activity.

"Maldonado needs you in"

John nodded at Dorian, speechless for once, wondering how much his partner had seen.

Dorian nodded briskly and the line went dead.

\----------

“Don’t say a word” John practically growled. He climbs into the driver's seat of the cruiser and slams the door in Dorian’s face.

“I wasn't going to say anything, John”  
John waits for the inevitable. He doesn't have to wait long.

“But if I were I were to mention your morning activities, I would say that masturbation is a perfectly natural occurrence for human males and that I am happy your testicle no longer backed up”

“Didn't I tell you to stop scanning my balls! God Dorian. 'Don’t say anything' means keep your mouth shut.” John looks over to see if he was being obeyed by his dysfunctional partner. “And wipe that stupid smirk off your face”

“This is what is called a smile. It can indicate joy, happiness, or amusement. I know these emotions are not familiar to you. You should try it sometime, John. It might be good for you” Dorian turns his face towards the waking city quickly passing by the passenger window.

Dorian hears the distinct sound of grinding teeth next to him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
